


Seventeen Part One: Deadly Affairs (of the Heart)

by deadgirlwalkin



Series: Seventeen [1]
Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: AU, F/M, an alternative ending, and some goodness (hopefully) in between, the redemption everyone deserves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 12:39:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11185320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadgirlwalkin/pseuds/deadgirlwalkin
Summary: Part one: what if Meant to Be Yours/Dead Girl Walking (reprise) happened in conjunction with one another?





	Seventeen Part One: Deadly Affairs (of the Heart)

_“Your friend Jason Dean stopped by earlier – he told us about your depression? Your thoughts of suicide...?”_

To say that Veronica was pissed off would be a gross understatement.

Sure, she was scared out of her mind – the fact that her ex-boyfriend was taking their breakup much harder than expected shouldn’t have surprised her, but it did; it was the kind of sick surprise often felt at the breaking of bad news, and it sent a thrill of fear and adrenaline racing down her spine.

More than anything, however, Veronica was furious: not only at JD, for planning to murder her (‘our love is God’ my ass, she fumed, because who besides Nietzsche would try to kill God), but at her parents for knowing so little about her life that they actually believed the psychopath was telling the truth. Sure, the thought had crossed her mind, but more than anything she was too determined to see the good in life, and in the world around her – a trait which could be her downfall, she mused, pacing back and forth across her bedroom.

A sudden sound at the window startled her from her ruminations, and instinctively she looked around frantically for a weapon. Spying her croquet mallet leaning against her closet door, she leapt towards it, grabbing it and spinning around just as JD rolled through her window, loaded gun in hand.

“Knock knock! Sorry for coming in through the window, darling,” JD remarked dryly, dusting off his trench coat. “Dreadful etiquette, I know.” He smiled, a cold, unfeeling smile, and Veronica tightened her grip on the croquet mallet. JD noticed the movement and laughed. It was a hollow sort of sound, without mirth, and Veronica was irritated and frightened at the same time, if that was even possible.

“A croquet mallet, eh? I suppose desperate times call for desperate measures…” JD twirled the gun on his trigger finger, and Veronica suppressed the urge to roll her eyes.

“I’d ask you what the hell you’re doing here, but I just had a nice chat with my parents. Moby Dick was a nice touch, but I actually read that last year, so…” Veronica felt a small twinge of satisfaction as JD’s face dropped for a second, before he regained his composure.

“Sorry, Veronica, your genius won’t save you this time,” he drawled, pointing the gun at her. “It’s up to me to do that.” His face darkened. “We were a team, you and I, and you know, when you broke up with me I died inside but! But then, I realized - wait! It’s not your fault! Those stupid fucks at school have just confused you, they’ve blinded you to the truth – luckily, I can set you free. You will see clearly again, and we can be together!” JD was filled with a sort of manic enthusiasm; his face was contorted in a mask of hysteria and anger, and his voice was higher than normal as he walked toward her, the gun still pointed at her chest.

Veronica balked. “What – what truth? If there’s anyone smart enough not to be blinded to whatever bullshit Westerburg spills out on a daily basis, it’s me! I’ve gone to this school for four fucking years, JD, and here I am! My teen angst bullshit may have accumulated a body count, but come June I’m going to graduate and go to a good college and, you know, get married – “

“No! Baby, listen –”

“Do NOT talk over me.” Veronica glared at him defiantly, with all the fury she could muster, before continuing: “I don’t know what you think you know about me, Jason Dean, but it’s not like Westerburg just recently became a shit show. It’s been terrible for years! And yet here I am, slightly the worse for wear, but I still have a soul. Every single fucking year people get worse, and worse, and people like Heather Chandler, and Heather Duke – they run the show with zero qualms about how they’re making people like Martha feel – side note: that was a badass use of the world ‘qualms’ if I do say so myself.” JD just stared at her, exasperation written across his face, so she plowed on. “I’ve changed – for the worse, sure, but that doesn’t mean I’m beyond hope. Just because we’ve seen firsthand how terrible people can be – that – that doesn’t mean that you get to decide who lives and who dies. Do I deserve to die, JD?”

JD paused, a look of uncertainty flashing across his face. “You – you carved open my heart.” It was a statement, cold and yet inexplicably sad all at once.

Veronica felt tears burn at the corners of her eyes, but soldiered on. “What do you think you’re doing to me now? What do you think you did to me when you broke your promise to me? I thought you wanted a life together, something real – but all you’ve done is made me cry.”

The gun in JD’s hand trembled as he looked away from her, to the floor. After several moments, he raised his eyes to hers, fiery and defiant. “Those assholes deserve it. You said it yourself! They just get to live, they get to walk away, they get to run the school? This – this school is society, and all of the fucked up things about it need to be gone.”

Veronica gaped. “What do you mean, gone? What have you done?!”

JD laughed again, that same hollow sound. “I built a bomb, of course! Well, more like a switch to set off the thermals in the gym, but still, it will be quite a sight to behold! It’s all going to be taking place at the pep rally today, and you are going to be my date!”

Veronica wasn’t sure if the ringing in her ears was the result of JD’s tirade, or if she could already hear the sound of the explosions taking place at school. She wanted to cry and scream at JD all at once, and yet she was incredibly tired of the whole thing. She just wanted to curl up into a hole and disappear, but she knew that if she gave up, everyone at Westerburg would die, and their blood wouldn’t just be on JD’s hands – it would be on hers too.

“The best part about all of it is that it’ll be a suicide, you know – they died because they didn’t want to just be – churned out as society’s slaves – at least, that’s what’s on the note they all signed. We can watch it from a distance, wouldn’t want to get too close, you know.” JD smirked, apparently pleased with himself.

Veronica shouldn’t have been surprised by this final twist, but she was. It was a fucked up plan, and she couldn’t let it happen – she wouldn’t. She could almost feel Heather Chandler breathing down her back, smirking at her, daring her to fail; she was sure that if she listened hard enough she’d be able to hear Kurt and Ram ‘punching it in’ to her impending failure. And she’d be damned if she let that happen. Besides, she owed them for the whole ‘murder’ thing.

JD’s hand twitched as Veronica straightened slightly, running a dejected hand through her hair. “You know that no one will get it, right? All people will see is a fucked up school, an anomaly, that cultishly committed suicide because of a society they were barely a part of. We can’t do this, JD.”

“You can’t possibly be suggesting that we just – let them live, I mean, I knew they brainwashed you, but damnit, Veronica, this is just too much!” He laughed wildly, his shoulders shaking, and Veronica took a hesitant step towards him. She could feel the desperation sitting heavily in her chest, and she knew she had to stop JD, even if that meant her trip to hell was a little sooner than expected.

“JD… please, listen to me,” she begged, and JD’s laughter ceased abruptly as he kept the gun leveled on her.

“Not a step closer, Sawyer,” he warned, eyes flashing.

“I wish – I wish your mom had stuck around.” Veronica pretended that she hadn’t heard JD, taking another slow step in his direction. “I wish she’d been stronger, and I wish your dad was good. Damnit, I wish he was good.” She took another step, and JD backed up, the gun in his hand shaking slightly.

“I wish adults knew what the fuck was happening in their own fucking school, I wish – I wish kids weren’t assholes, and I wish I’d met you before – before they convinced you that life is a war that needs to be won.”

JD shook his head, tinges of manic enthusiasm mixed with a sort of desperate loneliness playing across his face. “Isn’t it?”

Veronica shook her head. “Not with me.” She took a step towards him, and then another, until the barrel of the gun in JD’s hand rested firmly against her sternum. JD’s eyes widened, and much to Veronica’s dismay, he tightened his grip, squeezing the trigger slightly.

“JD, you have two options here,” the words seemed to tumble out of her mouth, tripping over themselves in an effort to sound calm and reasonable. “Put down the gun, don’t blow up the school, and come with me.” Veronica slowly extended her left hand, the one not holding the croquet mallet, out to him. “I – I know I didn’t take your hand before, and that was because I was hurt. You broke your promise to me, JD, and that really hurt me.”

JD seemed to waver, and Veronica took it as a sign to continue. “I – I’ve always believed that there’s a bit of good in everyone, and I’m willing to fight for that, for them. We were all kids once, growing up together, and somewhere along the line we changed – morphed into something worse – but we can do better. We can be better. I know, I know – you don’t believe that yet, but I do, with all my heart, or rock, depending on whether or not it’s been turned to stone yet.”

“Or?” JD prompted, as the cool steel of the gun pressed against her chest made her blood run cold.

“Or – or we both go down.” Veronica could feel her heart pounding almost painfully in her chest, but she couldn’t let JD know how scared she was. She steeled her gaze, looking into his eyes – those eyes which had been warm and melted for her once, but now seemed icy and frozen. “I can’t let you hurt those people – they don’t deserve to die. None of them. We do,” she said, the words getting caught in the back of her throat, “but they don’t.”

They stood there in silence for what felt like hours as JD stared at her, and she hoped that she would be able to see something in his face – something to give away what was going through his head, but he gave her nothing. Veronica prayed that her outstretched hand wasn’t trembling too badly, and her arm ached from the effort of keeping it still, but she couldn’t tear herself away from JD’s eyes, and she hoped that she could convey the sincerity of her sentiments solely through the force of her stare. As time stretched on Veronica began to panic, and she felt the croquet mallet solidly in her hand, knowing that if she reacted quickly enough she could bring the mallet up and –

“You are all I can trust.”

His words were soft, broken – and as Veronica returned from her thoughts to stare back at JD, she could see a flicker of something in his eyes as he carefully placed the gun in her outstretched palm. Not daring to tear her eyes away from him, Veronica stooped, flipping the safety with her thumb before dropping the gun to the floor and casually kicking it away from them. She stood up, and JD raised an eyebrow at her.

“What?”

He flicked his eyes at the croquet mallet still clutched in her hand. Veronica laughed shakily, dropping the mallet with a loud _clack_.

“Veronica? Is everything okay?” Her mother’s voice floated up from downstairs.

“Yeah, Mom, I’m fine,” Veronica yelled back, her eyes still fixed on JD.

“I made you a snack!”

“I’m fine!” Veronica called, and JD smirked slightly at her answer.

“Actually, you know, I could use a snack – all this plotting has really worked up my appetite,” he quipped, and Veronica choked out a laugh.

“Nothing like a near-death situation to get you craving some pâté,” she retorted, and JD’s smile faded slightly as he broke their gaze.

“Veronica…” he trailed off, before taking her hands in his. Veronica felt a slight tingle at his touch – the memory of days past lingering between them. JD cleared his throat, his eyes on his shoes, and as his eyes finally returned to meet hers, Veronica felt her breath catch in her throat.

“What happens next?”

She pulled him towards her, looking up at him as he looked down at her in surprise and consternation. She carefully wrapped her arms around him, and to her relief he returned the gesture, curling into her. The tears Veronica had been suppressing finally gushed down her cheeks, and she sniffed, wiping her eyes as JD pulled away, frowning at her.

“What?” she asked, somewhat defensively wiping her now running nose.

“I made you cry,” he said, and his fragile tone broke her heart all over again. He reached out, running a finger down her cheek, and she hated that just as a part of her wanted to flinch away from him, another very real, very present a part of her wanted to lean into him. She blinked rapidly to dispel the tears, trying to stay still as he gazed down at her, his finger still resting against her cheek.

She sighed, taking his hand so that it fell away from her face, gripping it tightly in hers. She swallowed, pondering the events of the past couple of minutes, and considered his question.

“Well – first, we get you some help,” she said, taking in the way JD’s face darkened. He didn’t protest, so she continued. “And then – ” she paused, unsure of how to continue.

“And then?”

“And then,” she finished, “we learn how to be seventeen. The right way.”


End file.
